


Trophy

by ImpossibilityGirl



Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: Dubious Consent, Light Bondage, M/M, mentions of animal death, snake england
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-25
Updated: 2015-10-25
Packaged: 2018-04-28 00:31:05
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,401
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5070973
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ImpossibilityGirl/pseuds/ImpossibilityGirl
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Alfred is a hunter who prizes rare specimens the most. However, killing half-human creatures isn't exactly ethical, but a hunter can make do.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Trophy

**Author's Note:**

> All of the relevant warnings are in the tags! This fic was inspired by [this](http://ennui160.tumblr.com/post/127760587506) piece of art.

Alfred had been a hunter ever since he was old enough to own a gun license. The thrill of the hunt, as many liked to call it, was not important at all to Alfred. Sure, it was fun to go out into the wild and rough it for a while. It was fun to polish his guns and click the bullets in and take aim, but for someone like Alfred it was the _prizes_ that made the whole effort of hunting worth it. He had a nice room back at his house full of trophies; antlers, stuffed heads and birds posed nicely on hand-carved wooden furniture, rugs made from bears and throw blankets from the pelts of foxes. Some called it an obsession, but Alfred didn’t see it that way. It was simply proof that he was at the top of the food chain, a tribute to the thousands of years of human evolution that allowed him to cultivate a hobby such as hunting. 

It had started off simply- he hunted deer, rabbits, quails, the occasional moose or bear...and then it grew. He wanted more. He took trips around the country to get different animals; wolves, mountain lions, pumas. Not all of it was legal. He took many trips to Africa and found some of his greater prizes there; he got permission to hunt a lion, even. He kept that stuffed head mounted above his bed.

There were, however, some animals that even Alfred agreed would be unethical to kill. Unicorns and griffins were exceptionally rare and things like centaurs and satyrs walked a thin line between hunting and murder (a line Alfred _didn’t_ want to cross). 

Unethical and illegal to kill, perhaps, but there was no legal ramifications for kidnapping mythical or half-human creatures. Alfred had looked it up in all the legal books he could find and, besides, centaurs were the only ones that seemed to be able to speak any human languages anyways. They were off limits according to his own moral compass, but oh, the other possibilities were endless. It made Alfred run his tongue over his lips and break into a grin, the jovial display of white teeth more than deceiving. 

This line of thinking explained the body currently splayed out in the corner of his trophy room. It’s another addition to his collection, but this one is alive. Alive and mounted to the wall just as the others, a silver chain tied to a black, leather collar on his neck. Well, “collar” isn’t quite the correct term. It’s more of a...harness. It’s a series of black straps that bind the creature’s arms to his torso, but it stops there. Alfred isn’t worried about its legs, since it hasn’t got any. Where the legs should be, there is instead a thick, green tail. The creature’s skin turns to smooth, soft scales and tapers to a point- it’s a naga; half human and half snake and an incredibly lucky catch. Nagas are notoriously fast and, well, as slippery as a snake. 

It had been an average day of hunting when Alfred saw the naga but a few hours ago. He was more on the lookout for a nice buck and had come to a river crossing when he spotted a huge, bundled up snake sunbathing on a rock. It was much too large to be just a regular python or something, so Alfred knew immediately what a treasure he’d stumbled upon- and, luckily, the animal was asleep and afforded Alfred what was possibly the easiest catch of his life. One tranquilizer later and he was hauling the limp body back to his truck. Easy as pie.

It was easily the new favorite addition to his collection- the naga is a stunning specimen. Its scales are green and glisten like the river it’d been found near, and its “human” skin is so pale it almost glistens as well. It’s got scruffy honey-colored hair that speaks to its wild nature and eyebrows that have clearly been left to grow unchecked. It looks young; nagas live about 50 years or a little more, and this one seems to be in its early twenties. Its face is supple and kind of cute, in an ethereal sort of way.

Alfred watches his prey from the plush leather couch (leather provided by his own hand, of course), waiting for it to awaken. He’d brought the day’s newspaper downstairs after tying the naga up securely, but he was too preoccupied with studying his new prize to even glance at the sports section or check the horoscopes.

When the naga finally does wake up, it’s with a groggy start and a very quick flash of panic. Its eyes- bright, bright green and split down the middle by the pupil- open wide in surprise and it thrashes its tail. The movement is weak, though, its body still under the influence of the tranquilizer. Realizing this, the creature folds in on itself and presses its body into the corner of the room, eyes darting about until they land on Alfred, seated on the couch with his legs crossed, boots reflective in the warm lighting. 

“Good morning, sleepyhead,” Alfred says, shifting so he can get up from the couch. The naga hisses, nose crinkled up and eyebrows furrowed in distaste, but it’s muffled under the gag and the leather mask covering half of its face. Alfred doesn’t react to the vicious greeting, approaching his new prize anyways. The other tries to use its tail to side-wipe Alfred, but the hunter reacts much more quickly and stops the movement with the heel of his boot, never breaking eye contact with the naga. He simply tilts his head and sighs, “Come now, don’t be like that. You’re going to make me tie your tail down, too?” 

The naga does not respond, but its green eyes burn with a terror Alfred and every hunter knows well. It’s a fear of being cornered, a fear of death. Alfred sighs and gets down on his knees in front of it, reaching behind its head and removing the mask but not the gag. He wants to inspect his prize. 

Alfred caresses a slightly rosy cheek, running his fingers down the line of its jaw, and when he comes to a stop he pushes his thumb against its pale lips until he gets past them and feels teeth- solid, human teeth. But he can see fangs pressed against the gag, preventing the naga from biting him. It’s probably not a venomous creature but Alfred isn’t taking any chances while it’s still volatile. 

The creature freezes at Alfred’s invasive touch, its eyes flickering down to the hand at its mouth and instinctively he tries to bite down but finds that he cannot. Instead, it turns its head as much as possible to get away, the collar portion of the harness digging grooves into its neck. Alfred sees this and gently coaxes the naga into a more comfortable position, though the touch of his hand seems to make the thing flinch. Alfred can’t really blame the poor creature; it’s just a scared and confused animal, not used to the surroundings yet. 

Alfred hums softly and watches green eyes wander still, pausing on spaces around the room as if it comprehends the antlers and furs, “Don’t worry, I’m not going to hurt you. You’ll find it quite comfortable here. I’ll get a bed to put in this corner, you’ll be well fed and get plenty of attention. Maybe I can catch a friend for you, too…” The hunter gives pause for a moment, “You know, I’d like to call you something. Do you have a name, I wonder?”

Alfred tries to think of a name, but realizes that he doesn’t even know the gender of this creature. He assumes it’s a “he” from the flat torso and the slightly more masculine-presenting face, but biologically he doesn’t really know. Alfred glances downward to be sure, but there’s no external genitalia to tell by. 

Without any way to tell for now, Alfred simply stands and replaces the mask on the naga’s face, “it’ll be Arthur if you’re a boy, Alice if you’re a girl.” He pets its matted hair and decides he needs to start doing some research.

* * *

The following day, Alfred decides to attempt to give the creature a bath; its hair is unruly and its skin is marred by dirt to the point that Alfred is postponing showing it off despite how valuable this catch is. He unclips the naga’s collar from the chain on the wall and attaches a different leash to bring him down the hall and to the bathroom, where the bath was already filled with lukewarm water.

The creature tries to struggle when Alfred lifts it over the edge of the tub, but once he lets go it slithers into the water and makes itself comfortable, seeming to like the water well enough. Alfred ties the leash to the shower knob, kneeling next to the naga and grabbing a bottle of mild soap, “Hold still. I’m going to wash your human half, since you’re so filthy. If you don’t cooperate, I have more tranquilizer handy.” He warns, though he knows it can’t understand anything that he’s saying.

The naga flinches when Alfred starts pouring water over its head, but there isn’t much it can do in the harness without hurting itself, so the creature simply curls into itself tightly and allows Alfred to rub suds into its hair and over the human skin. The whole process only takes a short while, and soon the naga is back out of the tub and drying off with several old towels, much cleaner than before. 

Alfred brings it back to the familiar corner and clips it into the more sturdy metal chain, and then leaves. When he returns he has a large foam bed, some blankets and bowls for food. He also has a plan now, born from a late night of researching this obscure creature, on how to find out what he should call his new pet. 

Once the naga is clean, comfortable and fed, Alfred sits down by it once again. The creature looks at him curiously, though its eyes are still wary and afraid. It’s still confused and doesn’t understand what exactly is happening, which makes Alfred smile fondly.

Alfred is no professional breeder by any means and without experience, he’s too afraid to attempt actually sexing this creature. The internet made it very clear that any mistakes could cause internal damage and Alfred would never risk ruining a prize of his. Unfortunately, snakes had genitalia that hid itself inside the body, unlike humans.

But this monster was still half human, wasn’t it? That must have meant that, to an extent, it had human wants and human desires. Potentially it would react to certain things the way a human would.

Alfred started simply, pressing his hand firmly on the stomach of the creature in front of him. It jerked away, peering at him with raised eyebrows as though it hadn’t expected to be touched again. Alfred’s other hand pressed on its shoulder, positioning the naga so it was facing him, back pressed against the paneled wall. The hand on its stomach moved up to its chest and he brushed his thumb against a pert, pink nipple and watched in fascination as the snake made an abashed, inhuman noise. 

Alfred repeated the motion, pinching the nub between his index finger and thumb. It squirmed in response, tail thrashing against the wooden floor. Curiously, Alfred let his hands travel further down to feel the naga’s hips. A bit further south from where its crotch would have been were this a human, Alfred found a nearly invisible slit that piqued his curiosity. Normally, to sex a snake, he was supposed to probe this area and see how deep it went, but he figured that managing to arouse the naga would give him an answer just the same. 

He cupped a hand over the slit and began massaging the soft scales. There was a gasp from behind the mask as the creature arched its back and tugged against the collar on its neck, whole body flushed pink. Alfred felt a hard bulge under its thin skin- it was small, but it was definitely getting bigger. This naga was a he.

“Do you like this, Arthur?” Alfred asked, his voice but a low purr. Alfred let his middle finger slip between the folds of his slit and found the head of his cock, something wet and slick already collecting at the tip. Arthur’s physical response was answer enough for Alfred. The loud, aimless moans were muffled but oh so sweet, his eyes shut tight and his whole body taut like a string. Alfred gladly played him like a fiddle, coaxing him from his sheath and then letting Arthur rub up against him. He did very little during the rest of the process, instead letting the naga writhe and fluidly move his hips off the floor in a frantic, rhythmic pattern. 

Arthur was very sensitive and very desperate, it seemed, which left Alfred wondering vaguely if he’d never had a mate before or if this was perhaps the beginning of the naga mating season. There was something so base about watching this creature rut up against his hand as though he were interlocked with a mate, his face screwed up in pleasure and tears stinging at the corners of his eyes as his whole body twisted and he gave a final thrust upwards and came all over Alfred’s hand and his own heaving chest. 

Alfred licked his lips, letting out a breath he didn’t realize he’d been holding. He cleaned his soiled hand off on one of the nearby blankets, leaving Arthur alone to deal with his own mess after that in order to take care of a problem of his own.

The next day, when Alfred came to visit Arthur, his face turned a cute shade of red and he watched every move made while feeding him with great intensity. Three days later, he unfurled his tail for Alfred and made a small groaning noise behind the gag, those bright, bright green eyes clouded with lust as they followed him around the room.

Alfred wasn’t sure if he wanted anyone but himself to see this particular trophy.


End file.
